A selection of five of my short poems.
My skull cracks open,
painfully, wet and gooey,
a condor emerges.
Real life is based
on a true story.
If black widow spiders
were given beautiful wings
would they become butterflies?
And They Said I Ain’t Romantic
You are the Pepto Bismol
that relieves my existential nausea.
Woman, I’ve already left
but you still believe I could never leave.
Just as on the dreamy isle of Bali the people
refuse to admit the revered but persecuted miniature tigers
that roared magic into their lush hills are gone forever.
“So What World am I Supposed to Live in?”
Taking her to school, out of the blue, my daughter says,
“You’re only happy because you live in your own world.”